


A KINK IN THE LINE: THE EROTIC MISADVENTURES OF DIPPER PINES

by bbq_scab



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: BDSM, Kink, M/M, Multi, Other, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 15:23:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12773874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbq_scab/pseuds/bbq_scab
Summary: An older Dipper uses Ford's latest invention with the intention of adventure but missteps--hard. Lucky for us, it's a sexy misstep.





	1. Twizzlered

**Author's Note:**

> This is weird smut I'm sorry in advance.

A KINK IN THE LINE: THE EROTIC MISADVENTURES OF DIPPER PINES

CHAPTER ONE: Twizzlered

Okay so what if Dipper was in a dark foreign dimension made of snakes, he was over it. What he really wanted to know was why this merciless snake-pit dimension smelled like Mabel’s bedside drawer. Mabel. She was probably making history as the most enthusiastic camp counselor to ever set foot inside Gravity Falls’ Camp Nativsoondingname. She felt a million miles away. Well, she was a million miles away--or was it that this dimension existed right on top of his own making her less than a million miles away...unless he was translated across space? You know what, the point is she’s not here. _But God I really wish she was_ , Dipper though as the massive snakes slithered across his body, the light of his phosphorescent watchface reflecting off their moving bodies.  


The snakes themselves seemed very docile, friendly even, but if he were to escape, he’d need enough space to teleport out of here. Although he could breathe easily enough, he seemed to be sitting right in the middle of a freaky snake yarn ball. As much as Dipper prided himself on his quick thinking, the truth was he had never faced this kind of issue without Mabel by his side. And with the familiar fucking-sweet stench around him filling his nostrils, the multi-verse seemed to be rubbing it in. _God, what even is that smell?_ He thought.  


Dipper could see himself in his mind’s eye about two weeks prior: _Of course I’m ready, Uncle Ford. You can 100% trust me with your inter-dimensional teleportation device. I’m legally a man, I have chest hair!_ He had been begging his uncle right up until Ford left to investigate sentient life created from mud in Indonesia or something. Dipper had been beyond thrilled to receive a postcard from halfway around the world, granting him permission to embark on his very first solo inter-dimensional adventure. _I left it out for you in case I had a change of heart-- on the bench opposite the window. Remember: be safe, Dipper._  


Well, I mean, he wasn’t exactly in danger per se, just slightly--(something brushed against his inner thigh, just above the knee)-- uncomfortable.

Licorice! All of a sudden it came to him: the smell was Mabel’s bedside licorice! Dipper took a moment to process; he was encased in a tangle of giant, apparently sentient, licorice. _At least it’s not snakes?_ He leaned back into his strange and unusual trap.  
_How is the licorice not sticky yet?_ Dipper thought. I’m sweating like crazy in here. Sure enough, his fashion-meets-function track pants were now damp to the touch with sweat; and still the slithering cluster around him remained cool and smooth.  
Dipper let out a sigh. The licorice gave way, conforming to his body, before pulling in against him again. The tugs were so gentle, Dipper didn’t even notice his wrists slip into loops of large, strong licorice. He was growing used to the rhythmic pulsing of this dimension. Like a heartbeat, he thought, but a heart with, like, ten thousand chambers. His eyes began to close--  
“Snap out of it, Dipper” he said aloud, and added internally: _I need a way out._  
Dipper reached for his knapsack, but was alarmed to discover his hands had disappeared into coils of red licorice and kept him pinned. He could feel licorice tighten around each of his calves, and coming around his hips under his thighs like a harness. Suddenly, all of the licorice not currently wrapped around Dipper (rudley keeping him static) went limp and fell into darkness. His stomach lurched, abruptly he was hanging suspended in darkness.  
_The first dimension I travel to and I’m held hostage by giant licorice in the void. Not what I had in mind,_ he thought. _Not to mention I’m spread-eagle like some hentai girl,_ he added with a fair amount of sarcasm.  
As reminiscent of tentacle porn as this was, Dipper needed to remind himself, this is licorice. The most wholesome of confectionaries. However, he could feel its pull around his skin, gravity tightening the restraints, pulling the harness up his thighs until it wedged itself between his legs and-- _oh God. Are we for real right now?!_ Of all the times to get aroused, Dipper’s body had apparently chosen this one. He wiggled to remove the pressure of the thick licorice off his crotch. He nearly called himself weak when he let out a small whimper of disappointment. _This is not the time,_ he thought, as much as this dimension seems to disagree. 

This thought had not yet been completed when he felt something brush against the small of his back--Dipper froze. One smooth, slick, cable of licorice had stretched the elastic waistband (he swore he would never buy adidas again) of both his track pants and his boxer shorts and was pushing its way in. Squirming as its tepid surface slid down his backside, he felt another strand push against his front, curving to his body and making him gasp.  
Powerless against the surprisingly effective candy restraints, it was no use pretending he wasn’t aroused anymore. The licorice inside his pants had made its way under him to his front-most hole, which--to Dipper’s horror--was dripping with anticipation. He could see the licorice end in front of him (now roughly rubbing his clit from the outside of his pants) was tapered to a rounded point. If Dipper was right about what was going to happen next (and he almost always was) he would incredibly grateful for it.  
Dipper was looking down at his feet dangling above the infinite darkness, rocking gently as he was twisted and fondled like a plaything by coils of candy. _This can’t be real, can’t be happening, Dipper thought._ However, some part of his mind gave way to self-indulgence and Dipper began to grind into the licorice beneath him to try and satisfy some sort of need that had been building up.  
The grinding was cut short when with intense dexterity and speed, licorice shot up inside him. The large foreign entity sent pain through his body at first, but it appeared Dipper’s pelvic muscles were more than keen to accommodate. The licorice began to move-- twisting and turning, curving to reach his g-spot-- it bobbed in and out of his body. All the while, the exterior licorice tentacle attacked his throbbing clit in rapid back and forth motions. The combination of the two lit fuses of nerves all along his body.  
With Dipper completely at their will, the overgrown twizzlers steadily increased in speed. Maybe more quickly than he would have chosen, but it left him shaking nonetheless. Just as he was not quite ready, the licorice would begin pummeling him at a higher intensity, punching his stomach right through to his brain. It was incredible. He was panting, his heart was racing, he was… moaning? _No one can hear you,_ he reminded himself, _you’re hanging in a void_. His body was currently enthralled in some sort lust that left every part of him melting (he would later pin this on demonic possession).  
Pulling at his restraints, licorice drilled into Dipper harder every second; pounding and rubbing, churning his insides until a warm knot formed around his abdomen. Bouncing up and down in nothingness, he came yelling. Jesus ffuck--! he blurted out, but the licorice relentlessly continued to pound. Breathing hard, coming again and again,he saw white in the blackness in front of him.  
The licorice recoiled just as quick as it had appeared, leaving him a little puckered and swollen. Dipper’s restraints loosened and he fell onto a licorice floor-- really just a pedestal in the infinite darkness-- on hands and knees. Sore and quivering, he stood up on some grade-A jellylegs.  
_Great,_ he thought, getting the teleporter out of his bag. _I’m gonna have soggy pants for the trip home._


	2. Jitterbug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our beloved protagonist is still fucking lost.

“Home,” Dipper commanded the teleporter, and not stopping to say goodbye, walked through the instant portal to his home dimension.  
_What the--?_ A metallic scent filled his nose, the air was sharp. This was not Earth. _Oh fuck,_ he thought, _oh no._ Preoccupied with frantically examining the teleporter, Dipper did not register a low echoing hum not far from where he stood. At this moment in time it was white noise-- other dimensions had to have generators, right? The whirr of machines was a comforting sound, to Dipper at least. The dehumidifier in Ford’s office, his laptop overheating, were buried deep in his subconscious as he panicked, fiddling with the teleporter’s interface. _Troubleshoot, c’mon troubleshooter!_ He pleaded the dumb machine. _There’s no way I made a mistake._ He was right. Dipper had been obsessing over this device ever since his uncle had built it, he knew it inside out. Hell, he had even helped build it, passing over screwdrivers and collecting obscure and dangerous materials… by all means, a mistake seemed unlikely.  
“No, don’t freeze now!” Dipper said, scolding his only way home. The teleporter didn’t react. “Gaah!” he shook an arm out in front of him in frustration at-- at-- where was he?  
All around where he was standing was polished steel, although there was a great bit of space he was not quite in a room. The walls, floor, and ceiling too all curved to unknown ends in different directions.  
“H-hello?” Dipper called out, tentatively. “I’m a traveler from another dimension, I--uh--come in peace?”  
Nothing responded except the distant hum of which Dipper was growing more aware. The faint rattling was definitely getting closer-- he supposed an other-dimensionally vehicle full of friendly tech experts would just be too convenient, so Dipper drew the pocket knife from his backpack side-pouch and took a ready stance. I bet the Swiss army never had to face a situation quite like _this._  
Holding his knife up shakily in two hands, and the un-cooperative teleporter back in his bag, he called out again: “Hello? A-anyone there?” to no one, apparently.  
The humming was loud and ominous now, looming around corners Dipper needed to look really hard to find. The buzzing grew louder, echoing off walls until it seemed impossible for him not to be able to see the source of the sound.  
The noise filled his head, overpowering his thoughts, weighing down on his brain itself, when suddenly silence filled the dimension. As if it had been sucked out of airlock and into space, the humming had vanished.  
Lowering the knife slightly, Dipper scanned the area. The blank steel room seemed unchanged from when he’d arrived. He turned back towards the opening in the walls, but before he could ever mutter “the fuck?” the entire room lurched forward, throwing him through the opening. Dipper landed on his stomach, the floor the same cold steel, swiss army knife about a meter away, backpack sliding down his shoulders.  
He had probably fallen 20 meters onto steel, but he strangely felt fine, albeit a little dazed with surprise.  
Dipper rolled over onto his back, taking a good look at the room in which he had just been thrown.  
“What in the good name of--” he muttered. This room was identical to the last, with one notable exception: there were thousands of beady eyes looking down at him from the ceiling. Yes, giant green insects were covering every inch of the immense surface.  
Dipper recoiled in fear (not that he was afraid of bugs, this particular situation would scare anyone, right?) but there was nowhere to go.  
Reaching his swiss army knife seemed like a logical next step, Dipper thought. However, almost immediately after the knife was in his grip, the whole room flipped over once more and Dipper was sent flying to the ceiling. Or was it a floor now? Either way, the probably useless knife was gone again, and his backpack had now also flown across the room.  
As any well-traveled individual will tell you: you really don’t know fear until you’re lying at the feet of thousands of monstrous winged insects. Maybe three feet tall and six long, Dipper could see his reflection in their bulbous eyes. They twitched and preened all around him.  
_Holy fucking shit,_ Dipper thought, _how the fuck am I going to do this?_ Keeping his eyes _strictly_ on the floor, lying still, he decided all he really could do was get his bag and hope for the best. Dipper lifted his head to scope out the situation: he could see his bag in front of him, slightly to the left, four feet away. What were the damn bugs waiting for though? Maybe they would just let him by if he was extra careful? _What choice do I have really?_ Dipper asked himself. He didn’t really have one, he concluded and started army crawling to the bag.  
Bad idea. Buzzing filled the universe around him. Head to the ground, this must be what pavement feels while being jackhammered. What felt like an eternity passed like this, before the unholy sound turned into a tolerable loud hum. Opening his eye, Dipper saw that nearly all of the bugs had flown away. However, about five or six remained circling him, and this is what Dipper found worrisome.  
Dipper tried to take a look at the insect right in front of him, from the ground all he could see really was their ventral side, and in that moment Dipper really wished he couldn’t. Dipper assumed this was the equivalent of an earth male insect, because hanging in front of him was the biggest (and strangest) dick he had ever seen.  
A stem connected to a sac of fluid extended perpendicular to its abdomen, before making a nearly 90 degree angle, and ran parallel to its body to a flared tip. In all its glory it was probably 1’6’’ long.  
The fluid sac filled like bubblegum being blown into a perfect sphere. Dipper realised soon this was just the preamble to its whole dick spasming, thrusting at the speed of light, sending little drops of liquid around it into the air. _All this in anticipation? Either this guy doesn’t get a lot of action or these pants actually are working for me._ A stale attempt at humour, it seemed, was what Dipper was turning to in this hour of need.  
He was not, however, laughing when he felt the cool, hard, leg of one insect pinch the skin of his back. Or when he felt another on the back of his thigh. Or the one right above the hem of his pants.  
Dipper squirmed to get away but he was now trapped by the arms and legs by the tarsi and tarsal claw of the insect now on top of him. It moved forward, securing Dipper’s arms with its back legs and resting his dick on top of his head. _Oh fuck,_ he thought, _it’s heavy._  
He kicked and bucked his legs trying to free himself, but two more green bugs had taken hold of Dipper’s pants and were trying to clumsily remove them from over his body. After an uncomfortable struggle for everyone involved and a lot of ripping fabric, Dipper was now fully naked from the waist down. _What a day,_ he thought. “At least the licorice let me keep my overpriced pants on!” he yelled at the bugs. Commonly-held knowledge: wise-cracking and one-liners always got people out of sticky situations.  
And sticky this situation was. He could see the green-ish pre-cumish substance in front of him, dripping out of the dick still on his head. And he could _feel it_ too, dripping into places he would rather it didn’t.  
The insect holding his arms left so that another could use its front legs to pin him down. Lying on his stomach, Dipper was totally glued to the floor. He could see the movement of bug dicks fidgeting in excitement, but that was about it. More importantly though, for the insects he was in perfect position for-- for-- _Oh no,_ Dipper’s stomach sank, _not up the ass._  
Slimy pre-cum covered his anus, gliding the insect dick around the entrance as it aligned itself, filling its fluid sack.  
Dipper nearly saw stars as the massive insect dick tore into him. Now, Dipper was known to be partial to a finger or two in the bum—but the savage rapid-fire thrusting of the insect sent intense pain to the forefront of his mind.  
The insect stopped to refill its fluid sac and Dipper let out a yell he couldn’t quite seem to vocalize a moment before. More slimey lubricant dripped down from the bug taking a pause from tearing his ass in two, making his sore asshole slick and somewhat soothed.  
Far too quickly, the bug was ready to go again. Dipper pinned by sharp claws was being pulverized, he felt at least two different sphincters being forced. There was no cock as unforgiving as one with an exoskeleton. Therefore Dipper Was confused when he let out a moan as the bug slid his dick in and out at the speed of light, pulling at the muscles in his body in just the right way.  
The insect pulled out to refill, and proceeded to keep drilling Dipper— for longer this time. Some great knot was being roughly undone inside of him, and Dipper found himself begrudgingly wantful of the, for lack of a better word, monster cock.  
Since he was both face-down and preoccupied, Dipper was unable to see that the next time the insect went to refill his sack, it wasn’t just slippery pre-cum this time. As the bug rammed into Dipper for its final time, it spasmed violently, sending eggs shooting into his abdomen.  
It felt so contrary, to be filled up this way, but Dipper allowed himself the indulgence of just going with it, now puzzled by both the evolutionary mechanism that called for the eggs to be implanted inside him and the sex of the insects gangbanging him. Like a highly efficient machine, the insects rotated out and a new one was now positioned above Dipper’s considerably stretched hole.  
Each of the five insects had their turn with Dipper. With each one, Dipper grew warmer, and looser, and more full, until he could feel his belly pressing against the floor. Against everything he thought he knew about himself, he found himself not only flushed and aroused, but on the brink of orgasm.  
The last insect ejaculated eggs into Dipper, pushing against the walls of his internal cavities to what felt like permanency. Oh God he was so full. Still being held down by cold, hard, legs; Dipper let out a shaking orgasm as every single egg in his body violently shot out from between his spread legs. Emptying him, draining him, stretching his asshole just one more time.  
And just like that, every parent insect left Dipper to squat over a portion of the eggs he had just popped out like a T-shirt cannon stuffed with marbles.  
Just barely getting his wits about him, Dipper sat up on his knees, still quite naked from the waist down. _Guess they’re not big on pillow-talk,_ he thought.


End file.
